It was a typical college Tuesday at Magnolia University. Freed was busy typing a report while Loke played Skyrim with his headset on to not bother his roommate. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Didn't hurt me," he said in a mumble. "I hurt him, though. I have never punched a client. I've come across some sick motherfuckers, but I've never punched one."

Loke suddenly laughed. "I did that when I worked at that lamp store, socked a customer right in the face when he started hitting on me and pinched my butt. What part of 'I'm not gay' don't people get?"

Freed glared over, but he ignored Loke for now.

"Freed…"

He stroked through Laxus' hair with questioning eyes.

"Call me … that."

Freed looked sharply over to Loke. His headphones were on, and he was growling at the game. Still, Freed leaned down into Laxus' ear to whisper, "Master."

Laxus smiled and sighed in relief. "Yours alone. Only you can call me that."

Freed's expression went mournful as he heard the slight shake in Laxus' words. "Loke," he said levelly and firmly. "As soon as it's convenient … leave."

Loke took his eyes off the game for just a moment and saw the stern look in Freed's gaze. "Got it," he nodded. He immediately shut down the game and turned it off. "It's just a game, after all." He yanked his coat on and stepped out. "See ya. Hope everything's okay. Call me if you need me, especially if you need to kick someone's ass." He shut the door firmly behind him.

Laxus chuckled softly. "He really is a good roomie."

Freed's eyes were hard with seriousness. "Laxus, what the hell happened?"

"Got propositioned," he said dismissively. "It happens from time to time, but … but this time … he made me realize something. If it was the other way around and you were the one going off to other men, I'd be insanely jealous. I'd always worry. What if one wanted to take it too far?"

"I can take care of myself," Laxus assured him. "That man just made me realize … how can I claim to be in a serious relationship when I'm still working like this?"

Freed cringed slightly, terrified that Laxus was going to break up with him. "People do. You hear stories about strippers that have serious relationships, or they're even married, and … and it's fine, so long as both understand, and … and … I understand!"

Laxus' eyes closed in self-loathing. "I'm more than just a strip dancer. I take clients on the side. I might not feel anything emotionally toward them but … they do." He sneered in disgust. "They do! How can I say I'm in a serious, monogamous, committed relationship when I'm nothing more than a glorified prostitute?"

"You're not!" yelled Freed.

"Do you know what the definition of a prostitute even is?" Laxus shouted back. "You could probably look it up in one of these fancy college books of yours. It's a person who engages in sexual activity for payment. Textbook definition, and that is precisely what I do. I might sugarcoat it by calling them clients and saying I'm a professional dominant and sadist, but what it boils down to is I perform sexual acts on those goddamn rich-as-fuck bastards, I restrain them, I beat their asses, I do all sorts of shit to them, I even jerk some of them off, and they give me a shitload of money in return for a night of kinky pleasure. I'm a fucking prostitute. A handsome, brilliant heir to a fortune like you shouldn't have a damn prostitute as a boyfriend."

"No, you're not," Laxus said with a regretful smile at such stubbornness. "You never liked it. You kept quiet, but I could always tell, you didn't like it."

"No! Laxus—"

"I'm giving them up," he said right over Freed's protests.

Freed jolted up in shock. "Wh-what? Them?" Did I hear that right? Them? Not me? He's not giving me up? Them who?

"All the clients. The South Pole Club, too. I called them all up, canceled all contracts. I didn't even bother with a two-week notice. I told Jellal to go fuck himself and that I quit." Those electric blue eyes looked up into Freed's astonished face. "I don't want you to have a stripper and a prostitute as a boyfriend. I don't want to do something that makes you sad. Those bastards will need their Christmas fix without the Thunder God. I don't want to do it anymore. I don't need any of it." He grabbed Freed and squeezed him tightly down into his chest. The green-haired man was still in shock. "This is all I need," Laxus whispered into his ear, "and I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to get so frustrated with my job, you leave me. I don't want you to walk out, or feel like you're second to anyone else. I don't want you to regret having me around. And I never, ever again want some bastard to call me master without my permission, or offer me a fortune to have sex with him, or say I can't be in a truly serious relationship if I still hire myself out as a professional sadist." He seethed in loathing. "No goddamn motherfucking elitist prick will ever tell me that again!"

Hearing this banished Freed's dread, but he felt guilty that Laxus was giving up something just for his sake. "But … you need it," he said softly. "You're a sadist. You … you need … more than I can give you."

"Then not this way. If I really do need to take it that far, it'll be something consensual for both of us, not clients who hire me for a night." Laxus held Freed's cheeks with both of his hands. "I'm never going to do something that makes you sad again."

Freed sputtered, unable to hold back the happiness any longer. "Laxus!"

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Mmh!" he nodded firmly.

"You never liked it, did you?"

Freed sniffled with joy. "Can't say I did," he admitted through tears.

"Don't ever suffer silently. If I make you suffer at all, I want it to be the type that makes you moan and makes me hard, not the type where you bury your heart and I feel like vomiting with guilt."

"Got it." He wiped clear his eyes. "That client must have really given you hell, huh?"

"Probably one of the biggest shocks of my life," he admitted. "I've hit plenty of clients, but rarely out of anger."

"Well, I'm glad. Sucks for the guy, though. I bet you broke his jaw."

"I might've broken his nose," he admitted in a grumble. "There's one problem. I'm now out of a job."

Freed teased lightly, "Maybe you should take up Mira's suggestion about dancing for the ballet."

"Oh, shut the hell up!" Laxus laughed and began to tickle Freed as punishment. The green-haired man cackled with uncontrollable laughs and fell back onto the bed. Laxus kept tickling him, loving the sound of that laugh and seeing that smile. All the darkness in his heart melted away with this man's blushing cheeks and cackles of laughter.

Laxus leaned in close and let his lips flutter over that trembling mouth. "Je t'aime."

Freed gasped. "French!"

"You like French, right? And Japanese?" He leaned into Freed's ear and softly whispered, "Aishiteru."

Freed shuddered at the warm air tickling his skin.

"I'll sing it, I'll shout it, I'll say it in any language you want. I love you." He leaned over and kissed Freed's lips. "I love you," he breathed softly, and kissed him again, letting his lips linger before pulling up with a pop. "But don't expect me to say it too often."

Freed chuckled in happiness and shook his head. He liked the idea that Laxus would only tell him those words when he really felt compelled to confess it.

Laxus collapsed onto the bed, and Freed curled up on his chest. "Can I stay for a bit, or are you busy with homework?"

"The report isn't due until Friday," Freed said in a hum.

"I'm gonna lose my apartment if I can't find a job. I doubt I can crash here."

"No. Students only."

"Figures," he grumbled. "Maybe I should go back to school. Not sure I'd fit in with the Freshman class, though. Not sure if I remember a damn thing from high school, either."

"There's … a club," Freed said softly.

"What, for older students?"

"I mean a job. A … a job at a club. A fetish club. I was browsing Craigslist for jobs for Loke and came across an ad for them. They're looking for someone trained in whipping techniques to work there. It's regulated, and I can be there to watch you. I … m-m-might like … watching you work, seeing you really go all out. At least then, it's in a public area, and … and I can say if it's too much for me."

Laxus stared over in shock. He really did love this man! "Are you sure?"

"You're still going to need it, right? You're a … a sadist. And yeah, I'm a masochist, but what I can handle … it isn't at the level you need."

"I'm willing to give it up. I can adjust."

"You once said that you hate the sorts of people who change themselves to meet the expectations of others. I don't want you to change, but … but I don't like being left out. I want more of a say in who you do this to. And no jerking men off. No physical touching. A whip, though, or a paddle … that's fine. That's not touching them."

Laxus was amazed that this was practically the exact same conditions Freed's mother had laid out while compromising with Llewellyn's need to be dominated. He really was a lot like Liberty. "That'd work perfectly. We'll give it a shot. If you don't like it, you tell me right away."

Freed nodded eagerly.

"I'm serious," Laxus said sternly. "If at any time it's not okay, you let me know. I don't ever want you to feel like I'm betraying your trust." He wondered how painful it must have been for Liberty when she found out her husband had been sneaking out behind her back. "I won't do anything you don't feel comfortable with, and from now on, if I use bondage on anyone other than you, you'll know about it. You can watch, or you can even be my assistant."

Freed jolted up with massive eyes. "As-ass-assistant?"

"That's a horrible word to stutter over, y'know."

"I can't do those sorts of things."

"No, but you'd be something like my nurse. If I want to switch from a flogger to a paddle, I call for Nurse Freed. Maybe I'll force you to dress up in a sexy nurse outfit, humiliate the hell out of you." Laxus began to smirk. "Actually, I like the sound of that. Mini skirt, high heels, parade you around as my sexy nurse and watch you blush in shame."

Freed thought about it too, how horribly embarrassing it would be to dress in women's clothing. "L-Laxus," he whimpered.

"Ya like it?"

"M-maybe."

"Of course you do." He caressed the flushed cheeks. "I'll beat others, but I'll only touch you from now on," he swore. "First … I want you to touch me everywhere he did."

Freed sat up and gazed down at the blond. "Just tell me where, master."

Laxus put a warm hand on the top of the green head. "Everywhere."

Freed's eyes narrowed. "He touched you everywhere?"

"No," Laxus chuckled, amused by that jealousy. "I want you to touch every part of me, every single inch of my body: my toes, my knees, my armpits … inside."

Freed's mouth dropped. "In- … inside?"

"Is that okay?"

Freed tried to talk, but his throat would not work.

"Everywhere," Laxus said sensually. "I want to be able to tell anyone else that the only place they can touch me is wherever you haven't, and so I want you to touch me absolutely everywhere. Every fucking place on my body."

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